


just like a paperback novel; a post-apocalyptic fairytale

by Muir_Wolf



Category: Big Bang Theory
Genre: Explicit Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-15
Updated: 2012-04-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 16:14:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/383421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muir_Wolf/pseuds/Muir_Wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Penny & Sheldon & Wil.  The one where Penny has to save Sheldon because he can't follow simple directions, and ugh why is Wheaton such a dick?</p>
            </blockquote>





	just like a paperback novel; a post-apocalyptic fairytale

**Author's Note:**

> This was an attempt to write outside my comfort zone. Mostly it's a lot of swearing and Penny being badass. All the thanks ever to ishie for beta'ing, all mistakes are my mine natch.

 

_once upon a time,_

 

 

Penny is not fucking happy with this shit.

She takes a drag on her cig and then runs a hand through her dirty hair as she slowly exhales, some of the tension in her shoulders finally easing. After all the planning and the sneaking in and sneaking out and the _bribes_ , and they're back where they started. Worse, actually, since fucking King George himself knows where they're at.

She's given up cigarettes at least half a dozen times at this point, but when the nicotine hits her bloodstream she gets a bit dizzy and the rush hits her and she leans her head back, looking up at the blue-grey sky and the wisps of smoke she’s breathing out.

So her plans have all gone to shit. So the rest of them have to move the base while she deals with this fucking mess that’s been dropped into her lap. So her head is aching and the sun is too bright and - and - and.

She drops the cig on the ground and grinds it into the dirt beneath her heel. Her sunglasses are in the saddlebag of her bike, so she digs them out and then takes a fortifying swallow of whiskey.

Fucking _bring it_ , day.

 

 

She has a knife strapped to her ankle and a gun on each hip and she's not taking anyone's shit today, not nobody's. Still, she wasn't quite expecting the surprise welcome party.

“Penny,” Sir Wheaton, asshole extraordinaire, drawls out. He's actually on a white horse, and who the fuck is riding around on horses when there's anything dangerous going on, anyway? The whole concept of the new breeding programs is to try to keep the world at least partly viable for their kids, and that includes _not endangering animals._

If that horse doesn't have some sort of genetic degenerative disease, she's going to have some very serious words with Wheaton when this is all said and done. Assuming they're both still alive.

“Look,” she says, not bothering with the whole _I don't want any trouble_ line they both know is a lie by now. “Are you really still pretending to go along with this whole New Texan Monarchy shit? I mean, really, Wheaton. I'd expect this out of Ensign Crusher, but not out of you.”

There's really nothing, she muses, as satisfying as the way Wil gets all red in the face and starts blustering. She's been using that to get to him since he hit twenty-whatever and moved to New Texas to live off ole' Georgie's payroll—just another desperate attempt for George to get Sheldon interested in the monarchy.

While she's fairly sure he and Wheaton had some no doubt torrid affair right after Sheldon came of age (or possibly just before), it clearly did shit-all to improve Shelly's attitude, so really she has no clue why Wheaton's still around. Well, he does look kinda good in the stupid armor King G insists on, but other than he's more a pain in the ass than anything else.

Maybe he's just life-alteringly good in the sack or something? That one time they did make out (accidentally!) for hours, it was pretty awesome. Or maybe King G is just stupid as well as being the worst ruler ever (don't quote her, history's always bored her) and generally intent on ruining the entire South. Ass.

“Look, Penny,” Wheaton says, “despite the fact that I mostly hate you, why don't you just get the hell out of dodge before the king and the rest of them get here? No matter how crack a shot you are, you're not going to be able to take them all on, and I don't have a thing to wear to your hanging.”

“I need Sheldon,” she says. He turns all creepy and leery, so she says, “ _We_ need Sheldon!” before he can say something gross.

“You and your fucking cult,” he groans. “God, Penny, you used to be fun, and now lookit you. Stop pretending to be some badass. There was a time when you wouldn't have been able to deal with your nail polish being chipped.”

She blows her bangs out of her eyes and quite generously doesn't shoot him right in his stupid face.

“I'd be a knight if King G wasn't a sexist, racist, anti-science scumbag,” she says. “I could always beat the shit out of you, Wil. Don't pretend this is a new look for me, just because I'm not wearing the latest fall fashions.”

“Penny--” he starts, and then breaks off abruptly as they both hear the the sound of a truck drawing closer. For a moment it looks like he’s going to say something more, but Wheaton’s always been a bit too skin-deep to ever cross a line that wasn’t a hemline. ( _Badum-tsh_ , she thinks grimly.)

King G’s sitting in the back with Sheldon, New Texas flags flapping loudly and awkwardly as Zack pulls up next to Wheaton. Poor, sweet, boring Zack. At least she’s pretty sure he won’t aim to kill her. Kurt’s next to him, though, and if Kurt’s still got that grudge, then she’s probably fucked.

A few more Knights pull up on their motorcycles (evidently Wheaton’s the only pretentious ass), and now she’s just really outnumbered, and she’s still dealing with the last dredges of a hangover, so this is just not okay.

“Lady Penelope,” King George says, over-pronouncing all the syllables. “Returning to the scene of the crime?”

“Look,” she says, her chin lifting a little, “you don't get to just decide that I'm the villain of this piece.”

“You _kidnapped_ my _son_ ,” King Asshole says, and she grits her teeth.

“I'm going to say this once. You keep your son locked in a tower. Literally. I'm pretty sure I'm the white knight, despite the choice in, y'know. Horse. Ride? Whatever you call it in this sort of thing.”

“I'd go with steed,” Wheaton chimes in, and ugh she hopes she gets to at least punch him before this is all said and done, because he's got that stupid smirk that's just too tempting for words. 

“Sheldon’s smart,” she says. “I mean, he’s really smart. And he and and my boys, together? They’ve actually got a shot of making life less shitty around here. You’re too busy wishing he were somebody else to see the son you’ve actually got, and that’s just sad.”

“Just because you’ve gotten sucked into that cult run by that-that _woman_ \--”

“So hating Leslie’s a family trait?” Penny grins, glancing at Sheldon. He glares, arms crossed firmly in front of him.

“Just because you got sucked in doesn’t mean I’m going to let my son join you. I’ve given you more leeway than I should have out of respect for your father, but you kidnapped the prince, and you’re not getting away with it.”

“Well, you’re not getting away with fucking up Texas,” she says. “How ‘bout them apples?”

“How _dare_ you!” Georgie yells, standing up in the backseat. “This is New Texas, and I was appointed by _God!_ You’re speaking blasphemy!”

“No, you know what? Fuck you. If anyone's being blasphemous, it's you. You don't get to decide unilaterally what the fuck God wants or doesn't want of us, and just because you think we should go back to the middle ages doesn't mean the rest of humanity's coming along for the ride! Yeah, we fucked up, but that doesn't just get us out of _trying._ We still have to try, otherwise what's the fucking point of it all?”

There’s a deafening silence after that. Wheaton looks uncomfortable, but he should’ve thought of that before picking a fucking horse to ride.

“You know, Your Highness, she _is_ a woman. Weak mind and all that. You shouldn’t take her too seriously,” he says.

“God, Wheaton, can you just shut the fuck up?”

“Drop your weapons on the ground and surrender, Lady Penelope,” KG says. “You’ll be tried for high treason.”

She revs the engine, feeling the bike vibrate beneath her, and really, if it’s all going to go to shit, at least she gets to ruin Wheaton’s day in the process. She’s just too fucking tired and hungover for this shit.

“How about you go choke on a dick?” she suggests brightly. Wheaton makes an undignified noise that might be him dying, but whatever, she’s got asshats to shoot and getaways to make.

“How _dare_ you!” KG bellows, and Kurt’s lifting his gun while Zack frowns and looks kind of like an adorably confused puppy, but she’s always been a fucking brilliant shot, and Wheaton’s too busy trying not to fall off his horse while not laughing to stop her. She shoots the front wheels of the jeep and then has to throw herself half off her bike to avoid the wild bullets Kurt’s spraying.

It’s been awhile since the last time she had to ride her motorcycle practically sideways, so maybe it’s a good thing she and Missy and Shelly and that fucker Wheaton used to go drinking in the desert and she and Missy would race motorcycles drunkenly and almost die a lot. Practice has clearly made perfect, right?

King G’s yelling after her, and shooting bullets into the sky as if that’ll make her stop, fucking idiot. She guns it, but the other knights are already starting after her. She thinks longingly of the flask at her hip, but whiskey and high speed chases don’t really mix, especially when she needs one hand for steering and one hand for shooting any idiots that get close enough.

She knows this land better than any of the fancyboy knights, though. They spend their days inside carousing and generally being shitty examples of nobility, and she’s lean and currently really fucking mean.

She steers into the brush and comes out in a cornfield, and losing them takes only patience and time. The former she’s not so good at, but she’s got plenty of the latter, and besides the wind is nice against her skin and she’s never minded an afternoon ride.

 

 

She has to wait until the next day to make her move, since taking Sheldon in transit is no longer an option. She ditches her bike in the bushes about a hundred yards from the tower and creeps forward, really bitter about the spiders and fucking leaves in her face.

“This is the worst,” she groans, looking up at the tower. The first time they got him out she had Missy working undercover, drugging guards and stealing keys. How the hell is she supposed to get up a tower without being seen? How the hell is she supposed to get up a tower, period?

Maybe it’s time for some of those fancy gadgets Leonard and Howard and Raj made her. They looked pretty sweet, although she didn’t bother staying for the whole rundown on them since Raj kept going off about the three of them being her fairy godmothers. That boy cannot hold his liquor.

She opens up her pack and flips through the doohickeys - it’s all apples injected with a sleeping toxin, crowns that reflect light around you and make you kind of invisible, and thread that’s super strong. There’s some thorns and marbles and things but honestly she doesn’t remember what the hell they do, so maybe she’ll hold off on them.

She’s glaring up at the tower when the fucker himself pops up from behind a bush. She has her gun to his forehead before he can manage more than a creepy faux-charming smile.

“I’m not here for you,” he says. “I still mostly hate you.”

“Oh good,” she says. “Glad we’re mostly on the same page.”

“Can we just forgo the small talk and rescue him? I have dinner plans.”

“You’re an awful person.”

“I know,” he grins. “You got a plan?”

“Besides shooting you in the face?”

“Oooh, are those apples?” he asks, reaching for one. She _almost_ lets him take it.

 

 

Wheaton knocks on the door and brightly offers the guard an apple while he makes small talk. As soon as the guard is down, they hide him in his office. Penny and Wheaton put on a crown and start sneaking up the stairs mostly invisible, although he keeps bitching that the crown is too heavy for his neck. She elbows him in the stomach a few times and he finally shuts up.

They have to knock out a few more people, but the hilt of Penny’s gun doesn’t mind cracking a few heads in, and she’s happy to oblige. By the time they get to Sheldon’s door, they’re a bit queasy from the way everything’s kind of out of phase, and Penny yanks her crown off and drops it in her bag. The door is locked and bolted some fifteen times over, and she’ll be damned if she knows where the keys are, but knowing the boys there’s like a fifty percent chance that either the marbles or the thorns explode. She jams the thorns into the keyholes and lines a few marbles up against the door, and then shoves Wheaton back as things start blinking in alarming ways.

When the door literally disintegrates in an explosion, she thinks maybe she overdid it, but whatever. Sheldon emerges from the doorway wide-eyed and terrified, but she’s still too angry to be worried about him.

They only stole Sheldon back the first time because he can’t fucking listen to directions and was outside wandering around collecting soil samples and measuring the distance of the stars from the mountains or some shit. If he’d stayed in their underground bunker, as she’d told him to, they wouldn’t even be in this mess.

Well, to be fair, if King G was less an asshole, they also wouldn’t have been in this mess. Still, it’s the principle of the thing.

“Hello?” he says.

“Hi, Sheldon,” she says. “You ready to go, or are you all comfortable back here?”

“Penny? What are you doing here?” he asks.

“What the fuck do you think I’m doing? I’m rescuing your ass. Again, by the way.” There’s noise from down below - guards coming up to check the explosion, and she groans.

“Can we get a fucking move on?” Wheaton growls, shoving them both back into Sheldon’s room. He peers out the window. “Your thread long enough?” he asks.

“Plenty long,” she says, tying it to the bedpost and throwing Sheldon a pair of gloves.

“Here, wait a minute,” Wheaton says. He opens a closet and shoves Sheldon in to keep him quiet. “Stay there.”

“What now?” Penny hisses.

“You’d better tie me up,” he says. She stares at him blankly, and he huffs. “So they don’t figure out I helped you?”

“Wait, you’re _staying_ here?” she asks. He starts laughing and hands her a length of rope.

“You think I’m going to stay in whatever backwater shithole you all are staying in? Fuck that. Go fix the world, and come tell me when it’s done, but next week is fashion week and I’m modeling this year, and fuck me if I’m missing that.” She pauses as she ties the knot around his ankles.

“You don’t want to be out from under George’s thumb? And able to - I dunno, fuck men without having to hide it?”

“Again, I’m helping you get him out of here, aren’t I? I’m not going to be any fucking good at whatever science shit you guys are doing, and from this side I can give them bad information and hopefully keep him from getting kidnapped. I’ll just have to fuck more women to make up for the men I’m not fucking,” he grins.

“God, you’re an asshole,” Penny says.

“Oh good, you’re angry! I need you to punch me so it looks realistic, so-- _fuck_ , Penny, I wasn’t ready!”

She blows him a kiss and then yanks Sheldon out of the closet.

“What’s going on?” Sheldon asks, looking worried, but she rolls her eyes and hands him her bandanna.

“Go say goodbye and then shut him the hell up with this. I’m gonna make sure there’s no one down below the window, and throw a bunch of marbles down the stairs.”

 

 

Penny keeps a tight grip on his wrist as she drags him down to where she hid her bike in the bushes.

“Don’t make me rescue you again,” she says sharply, throwing the loose branches off the bike.

“I'm not a damsel in distress,” Sheldon says, voice strained. Penny narrows her eyes.

“Get on the fucking bike.”

He climbs on gingerly, and she can hear him muttering about safety protocols and shit, so she revs the engine and listens to him abruptly shut up, his arms wrapping around her waist and his chest snug against her back. They ride off in a cloud of dust, the back wheel of the motorcycle kicking up the dirt until it hangs in the air behind them.

“How long until we’re there?” Sheldon shouts.

“Ask me that again,” she yells back, “and I’m leaving your ass by the side of the road.”

 

 

  
_and they lived happily ever after._  


 


End file.
